


No Kicks, Just Cuddles

by sweetiejelly



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-30
Updated: 2011-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-28 12:32:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetiejelly/pseuds/sweetiejelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt doesn't even know what his life has become, but in a good way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Kicks, Just Cuddles

**Author's Note:**

> Written back in March 2011 for Morgan; originally posted [at my LJ](http://sweetiejelly.livejournal.com/149587.html).

Kurt locks up his Navigator and looks up the driveway. He doesn’t even know what his life has become. There approaching the front steps of his house are two of his favorite guys – his long time crush and now half-brother and his current crush and now nothing more – tangled together in the dark, making one silhouette, tall and curly.

Tall is carrying curly, swinging him a little towards the wall as he struggles to open the door.

“Finn!” Kurt registers the near miss and rushes forward.

“I know. I know! I’m _trying_!” Finn shifts the weight in his arms so he could toss the keys over to Kurt. “He’s heavier than I thought, okay? And he’s _touching_ me!”

Kurt looks and it’s true. Blaine’s arms are wrapped snug around Finn, his hands clasped over the skin of neck in a way that makes Kurt ache. “He’s drunk.” Kurt says and then more to himself than to Finn, “Apparently a slutty drunk.”

He reaches around them both and opens the door. Quietly, and amazingly without incident, the three of them make it up the stairs and into Kurt’s room.

Finn looks relieved as he drops Blaine on Kurt’s bed. Kurt expects him to bolt as soon as he could but Finn just stands there, rubbing the back of his neck and frowning a bit as Kurt takes off Blaine’s shoes and tucks the comforter around him.

“What, Finn? Spit it out.”

Finn’s head snaps up at the tone. “Nothing! I– I was just thinking that I haven’t had a guy in my bed since kindergarten when Puck used to sleep over.”

Kurt closes his eyes and takes a steadying breath. This is too much for one night. He can’t be assaulted by the image of Blaine kissing Rachel _and_ of Blaine cuddling close in Finn’s arms _and_ of toddler Puck being in toddler Finn’s bed. It’s too much. “Are you saying you want to crash here?” He asks archly. “Because this bed isn’t big enough for the three of us and I’m _not_ sleeping on the floor.”

“No-no-no,” Finn throws up his hands. “No. I’m just – going.” He points at the door and turns to go.

And immediately Kurt feels bad for taking it out on unsuspecting Finn, sweet Finn who was only trying to be nice and make sure Blaine doesn’t die in some tragic drunk driving accident on the way home from Rachel lips. “Finn – thank you.”

Finn looks back cautiously and smiles a little, shrugging. “He wasn’t _that_ heavy.”

“Good night, Finn.” Kurt smiles back fondly.

“Yeah, I hope he doesn’t kick,” Finn drums a finger on the door frame. “Puck used to.” And then Finn is gone, pulling the door closed after him and tiptoeing to his own room down the hall.

Kurt muffles a laugh. Yeah, he no longer feels bad about never having boy sleepovers. This, however, isn’t a sleepover. For one, Blaine doesn’t even know he’s here. And two – they don’t get to talk or play games or spend any time together really. Blaine is out cold, his face turned in profile, lashes three miles long. Stupidly pretty.

Kurt tears himself away. He still has his nightly routine to do before getting ready for bed.

When he does get in bed, he makes sure he turns away from Blaine so they’re back to back, so that if Blaine _does_ kick, it wouldn’t be at him.

He wakes up half way through the night, after it takes him extraordinarily long to fall asleep (Blaine’s body heat feels like a sauna against his back and Kurt could feel the soft-rough rhythm of Blaine’s breathing as hard as he tries not to). He wakes up and he feels an arm around him, hand over his chest, heavy and warm. _Blaine._ Kurt can’t remember waking up like this ever, with anyone.

He lies very still and bites down on his lips. It’s no use though because the next thing he knows, he feels the steady breathing of Blaine against the back of his neck. Which means Blaine’s _nose_ is pressed up against his neck, which means Blaine’s _lips_ are pressed up against his neck, which _oh god_.

 _Slutty drunk_ , he reminds himself. Or maybe Blaine just likes to cuddle. Kurt files away this useless piece of information and tries to go to sleep.

~~

Kurt locks up his Navigator and looks up the driveway. He doesn’t even know what his life has become. Earlier this week he lost Pavarotti and then today in flew Blaine, shakily sincere and _such_ a good kisser. Kurt touches a hand to his lips. Yup, still tingles.

“Kurt!” The front door opens and his father steps out “You’re late. Traffic?”

 _Blaine’s lips._ Kurt shakes his head as he hurries. “Rehearsals,” he grins. “I got a solo at regionals!”

“That’s great.” Burt pats him on his shoulder and squeezes a bit. “I’m proud of you, kid. Go wash up and hurry down okay? Carole made some of your favorites and I think Finn already ate half of it.”

“That’s different from usual, how?” Kurt lifts an eyebrow as he says this but there’s no heat in his words. Still, he runs up the stairs and ducks out of the way before his dad could remind him to behave. “I’ll be right down!” He calls out.

When he gets to the table, his grin is still in place.

“You got a solo at regionals? Way to go!” Finn salutes him with his fork.

“Careful, honey,” Carole lowers his hand down to the plate. “You’re going to poke someone’s eyes out like that.”

“Thanks!” Kurt shoves a forkful into his mouth. He is really very hungry. He and Blaine skipped most of lunch today.

“What are you singing?”

Kurt chews and swallows and looks over at Finn. “Oh, you know, I can tell you but then I would have to kill you.” He takes a drink of his water and shrugs. “You’ll see. I’m singing it with Blaine.” Even as Kurt says it, he hears it, how his voice changes at Blaine’s name.

“Blaine?” Burt looks away from Carole and wipes at his mouth.

“Mm-hmm. It was his idea actually,” Kurt keeps his eyes on his plate and tries not to look at his dad. “He got the Warblers to vote on turning a solo into a duet. And then he named me his duet partner.”

“Uh-huh. And why did he do that?” Burt is in his all-knowing dad mode and Kurt knows there’s no sidestepping the issue.

He looks up from his food and presses his lips together. (Still tingly.) “Blaine said he picked me because he wanted to spend more time with me. He said I moved him when I sang and that I was the one he was looking for all along and he’s just figured it out this week.” He sends a smile Carole’s way when she _aww_ ’ed. “And yes dad, before you ask, we kissed. But that was it. We didn’t do any of the pamphlet stuff.” He sneaks a look at his dad out of the corner of his eyes. So far Burt seems to look non-murderous, which is good.

“What’s pamphlet stuff? Is that like a gay thing?”

No one answers Finn but Burt clears his throat. “You should– you should invite Blaine over to dinner.”

“But you’ve met,” Kurt feels his panic rising. Burt _is_ murderous after all.

“Not as the guy who’s kissing my son.”

“I would _love_ to meet him, Kurt,” Carole reaches over and pats his hand. “He sounds like a wonderful guy.”

“He’s very handsy,” Finn offers and Kurt shoots him a sharp look. “What? He was!”

“Kurt, just remember what I told you.”

Kurt nods furiously, blush creeping down his neck now. “I do, dad. Honestly, kissing – that’s all. Well, and holding hands and singing. That’s _all_.”

“You like him?” Burt’s voice softens just a tad.

Kurt looks up this time as he nods. “I love him, dad.” And in his dad’s eyes, Kurt sees his own happiness reflected. It’s almost enough to make him cry.

Then Finn speaks up. “You’ll be Klaine!” Finn snaps his fingers as he grins. “Or Blurt!”

Kurt bursts out laughing instead, and if the corners of his eyes are a little wet, it’s just that dinner is so good. His _family_ is so good.

~~

“Definitely Klaine,” Blaine grins as he tugs Kurt closer.

“No way!” Kurt raises an eyebrow and scoffs. “I was sure you would have better taste and pick Blurt!”

“Hey!” Blaine drags Kurt back for another kiss, longer this time, lingering as he melts away the last of Kurt’s knee ligaments. “I have great taste. I picked _you_.”


End file.
